


She Knows How To Keep Me Guessing

by mcaulfield



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Consent is sexy okay, Dom/sub, F/F, Jeffershit is in jail, Mild Kink, No Storm in Arcadia Bay, Sex, Weed, chasefield, first encounters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 09:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18496393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcaulfield/pseuds/mcaulfield
Summary: Oh, the pain...sinking your fangs into my veins, leaving a stain. Venomous touch — this isn't love, who gives a fuck?





	She Knows How To Keep Me Guessing

**Author's Note:**

> This entire fic is based off of the first chapter’s title, which came to me randomly one day. The idea’s been sitting around for a looong time, collecting dust, while I’ve continued work on IFAF...I figured maybe it’s time to bust this one out. I don’t have any plans for it to become more than a two-shot but I’m not totally opposed to sequels.... ;) Enjoy!
> 
> Oh and the lyrics in the title and summary are from Slither by Bohnes which kinda captures the mood of this fic pretty well. You should give it a listen.

The air felt thick with heat and sweat and sound. The strobe lights and LEDs burned through the haze that was part fog machine, part my classmates smoking weed inside. The floor was damp from everyone jumping in to and climbing out of the pool. The bass thudded a heady rhythm through my chest.

Overall, it was sensory overload...which sounds bad but it was just the right concoction to draw the students of Blackwell Academy, myself included, in even further. I felt entranced. Sure, I didn’t get out much, and I generally loathed crowds, but music and I go way back. Any opportunity to feel connected with it, I tried my best to take.  _ If _ my anxiety allowed it, of course.

I’d come alone but that was no surprise. I still didn’t feel like I had much of a place at Blackwell. Yeah, I’d grown up in Arcadia Bay, but living in Seattle for five years made returning to the private high school feel like walking into some sort of Twilight Zone. Especially with all of the people who came to Blackwell from other parts of the country.

I’d at least reconnected with Chloe not long after coming back. That had been probably my one saving grace that kept me from saying fuck it and returning to my parents in Seattle. She’d changed a lot, been through a lot, but so had I. We weren’t the innocent kids running around playing Pirates anymore — okay, maybe a little, but it wasn’t quite the same.

Seattle changed me. Being thrust into such a large school after being ripped apart from the girl who’d become my rock, right after her  _ dad  _ — who was like a second father to me, too — passed...it shut me down. I never  _ really _ acclimated to the city setting. It was loud...overwhelming in a bad way, not like the haze of the gym around me. And there were  _ so _ many students. I’d found my niche, after a few years, but it was a small one.

Some of the things I went through in Seattle really jaded me, too. The only people I was really open with were Kristen and Fernando — my two real friends there. They were the only ones who I felt didn’t judge me. Puberty also felt like it was taking its sweet time with me, leaving me very self-conscious. It wasn’t  _ bad _ to me but I definitely hadn’t taken off like everyone else. I was still wiry and awkward. I’d done what I could, growing my hair a bit longer helped, and I’d started wearing some really minimal makeup (really just a little eyeliner so I’m not sure it even really  _ counts _ as doing my makeup), but I could only do so much. It wasn’t like I was going on dates anyway.

People intimidated me.  _ Especially _ at Blackwell. Everyone was so well-off, unlike me and the maybe two other middle-class kids. They dressed well, acted like they were on top of the world, and looked like they were 21+ already.  _ The Vortex Club.  _ That’s who most of them were. Groupies of the school’s social elite, looking for the next party or fix of whatever it was that excited them most. And they could get away with it because their parents had money and they were protected by the name of the stupid club.

Instead, I tried to keep to myself. I knew a couple of people at school, sort of...Warren Graham, Kate Marsh...but the peak of the pyramid, the crème de la crème, made sure I knew my place in the social hierarchy: the waif pseudo-hipster scholarship nerd.

I’d wandered around most of the pool when the Queen Bee herself brushed by — Victoria Chase. Richest of the rich, snobbiest of the snobs...hottest of the hot. I rolled my eyes. Of  _ course _ she was the Queen of the social elite. She had it all. She was a walking stereotype. I guess I was, too, since I was all spindly and anxious and “retro” but  _ Victoria... _ man, if you could come up with the perfect rich bitch, you were probably picturing Victoria Chase.

Ever-so-slightly above average height, platinum blonde pixie cut styled to perfection, a piercing glare, the strongest HBIC walk in heels you could imagine, the classic “legs that go on forever,” dainty but sharp and polished features, a tight frame...did I mention legs for  _ days?  _ The epitome of Queen Bee. Victoria Chase.

“What are you  _ staring _ at, Caulfield?” Her caustic tone came from my right, snapping me out of my reverie. I realized I’d been checking her out while she walked by.  _ Damn, that weed Chloe gave me was stronger than I thought… _

“Huh? Oh, um...nothing. Why?” Smooth. I was the master of being smooth... _ not. _ Victoria scoffed.

“Um, I’m  _ pretty _ sure you were staring at  _ me. _ Want to explain that?” She one of her hands on her hip. A small pool of anxiety sprang to life in my gut.

“Uh, you were...walking by?”  _ Weed not helping, weed not helping! _

“Uh  _ huh... _ well, I guess you find me pretty fascinating, then. Don’t you, Max.” It was more of a statement than a question. God, did she have to be so sure of herself? Like...all the freaking time?

I stammered, trying to find a way to respond. Before I had the time to come up with a decent enough reply other than what my weed-laced brain wanted to come up with (“you have real nice legs, I dunno...”), she’d sidled up next to me and leaned in close. I felt the small pool of anxiety rise to a boiling mess inside of me.  _ Fuck, what is she doing??? _

“I don’t mind, you know,” she practically  _ purred _ into my ear. I suppressed a shudder when her breath hit my neck.  _ What the fuck? Why is Victoria Chase so close to me right now? Why is Victoria telling me she likes it when I stare at her? Why is she— _ it dawned on me.  _ She’s drunk. She’s drunk and absolutely lives off of attention. Duh. _ I sighed, feeling the anxiety go down by...maybe half a notch.

“Um,” I began. “I...uh, okay.”  _ God,  _ I was high.

“Want something to drink?” She asked, still dangerously close to my ear. I’m not sure she’d leaned back at all, really. I looked around nervously, desperately hoping for an out or for someone to see this exchange so she’d realize how close she was to me and back off. Was this another trick? Was it a prank? Was she going to slip something in my drink and — no, she wouldn’t do  _ that. _ Not after we found out our esteemed photography teacher had a nasty habit of drugging barely-legals. Eugh. I shook my head.

“No, I’m...more of a weed smoker, myself,” I replied honestly. She  _ finally _ leaned back from my ear a few inches and smiled.

“I can work with that,” she replied, almost bubbly. “Come with me.”

She didn’t wait for my answer. She just grabbed my wrist and lead me out into the hallway between the pool area and the locker rooms. The music was muffled but the bass still pounded enough for me to feel it and, if anything, the haze in the air got even thicker the further in we went.

There were a  _ bunch _ of students there — I never went down this hallway at the other dance I went to, I never had reason to. But now I knew that it was where people went to smoke and drink and make out...at least more obviously and explicitly than in the pool area, since none of those things were exactly absent inside.

Victoria dragged me down towards the end of the hall, near the metal double-doors that lead outside. A few heads turned, which I tried to ignore...although, I  _ did _ wonder what people thought was happening, considering I was usually the target of one form of bullying or another — mostly from Victoria herself. She stopped, dragging me against the wall next to her. We stood side by side for a moment, then she turned to me.

“Well? Do you have anything on you? I  _ know _ you hang out with that Price punk.” I rolled my eyes.

“You brought me here — quite against my will, I might add — and you don’t even have anything to smoke?  _ Seriously, _ Victoria?” I shook my head, pulling out my one-hitter pipe and the small baggie of weed I kept in my pocket on the weekends. She scoffed.

“I have some.” She sounded indignant. “I just know that Price pays the  _ price _ for the good shit. I’ve run into her a few times picking up.” I hummed in acknowledgement while I packed my piece.

“Yeah, okay. Um...anyway. Here you go,” I said, offering her the pipe and my lighter. She looked at it and then looked at me.

“Oh, you first, Caulfield. You look like you could use some, you nervous wreck.” I looked down at my hands. They were shaking slightly.  _ Thanks, anxiety. _

I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could manage and brought the piece to my lips, taking a generous hit. Victoria watched my every move like a hawk. It was...a little weird. I handed the pipe and lighter to her as I exhaled. She watched the smoke as it left my lips. Her fingers brushed up against mine as she took the pipe from me and I tried to ignore how soft they felt.  _ You’re stoned, Max. Victoria Chase is just using you to get high. Please, for the love of god, put the gay away for just five minutes. _

I watched Victoria take a hit, trying not to be as obvious about it as she was. It wasn’t rocket science, there just wasn’t much else to look at. At least...nothing  _ good _ to look at. There were  _ plenty _ of sloppy teens making out against the walls but that wasn’t exactly good viewing material.

Victoria caught my gaze out of the corner of her eye. I froze a little. Her eyes half-closed and she smiled around the mouthpiece of my pipe with a hum. She offered the piece back to me, exhaling a decently large hit. I was already pretty high but I almost felt like a hostage...and I  _ definitely _ felt like declining wasn’t an option if I was going to keep a drunk — and soon-to-be stoned — Victoria Chase off my back. So, I took the pipe from her hands, the tips of our fingers brushing again. She looked at me when it happened. I tried my best, again, to ignore it. Victoria leaned against the wall, resting her head back against it.

“You know, Caulfield,” she began. “You’re not half bad.” I glanced over at her.

“Huh?”

“I said you’re not half bad. Are you deaf?” She rolled her head slightly to look at me.  _ Jesus,  _ the emotional 180s she kept pulling made my head spin...which  _ may _ have been exacerbated by my high, just a little.

“No, I just…” I took my hit. “Don’t get what you mean,” I finished, passing the pipe back to her with a shrug. There were probably only a couple more hits left in it, it wasn’t made to hold a bowl for sharing, really. She took a large hit, holding it in for a minute. I could tell she was thinking about something.

“You’re…” The smoke from her hit slowly left from between her lips as she spoke. She let out the rest of her hit. “You’re not someone I want to hate, actually.” I raised one eyebrow in surprise, taking the pipe from her.

“Oh, no?” I asked around the mouth of the pipe. Well, it sort of sounded more like  _ ohph norhh?  _ because of the glass between my lips, but she got the message anyway.

“No.” Her tone was sharp again. “I just…” Victoria leaned her head back against the wall and sighed. “Don’t  _ tell _ anyone I’m saying any of this right now. I’m drunk as hell and probably won’t remember telling you half of what I’ve said tonight in the morning, so...whatever. Just…” She took the pipe from me. “Maybe, for one night?” She raised the pipe and lighter to her lips and inhaled.

I’m not sure if she  _ meant _ for the pause while she took her hit to leave me in suspense but it sure as hell did. My gay little heart leapt into my throat — though I tried to banish whatever hope of spending some one-on-one time with Miss Perfect herself that came with it from my mind. Victoria exhaled lazily, smoke billowing from her lips and nostrils.

“Maybe for one night we can be friends...call a truce, or something.” Her voice was quieter than it had been before. It lacked the sharp confidence it usually held.  _ Was this… _

“Wait, wait, wait,” I said. “This isn’t some sort of  _ trick, _ is it? You’re not trying to, like, I don’t know...get me alone to pull some sort of fucking prank or something, are you? You’ve been  _ all over the place _ so far and it’s...kinda weirding me out to be honest.” Victoria sighed and looked at me. I put the pipe and lighter back in the little baggie in my pocket. I was high enough and  _ Victoria _ obviously didn’t need any more substances, either.

_ “No, _ Caulfield,” she replied. “I’m not...pulling some sort of trick or whatever. I’m…” She looked away. “If I wanted to get you  _ alone, _ it wouldn’t be to hurt you in any way.” She turned and looked at me, her eyes relatively neutral but narrowed. “Unless you  _ wanted  _ me to, of course,” she added on. Her voice was low.  _ Is this...flirting? Is Victoria Chase  _ flirting  _ with me??? _

“Um,” I stammered. “I mean…” I didn’t know how to respond. “Wait...you said... _ friends _ for a night?” Okay, maybe my brain was  _ still _ catching up with what was going on. “But you said…”

“Nevermind what I  _ said, _ Caulfield,” she snipped. “The  _ point _ is. You and me. My room. Tonight.” She paused and quirked an eyebrow. “You in?”

My chest squeezed and my breath grew heavier. I inhaled sharply through my nose.

“If this is some sort of prank I’ll fucking kill you, Victoria.” She just smirked.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way…”

* * *

Victoria fumbled with her keys a little as she unlocked her door — not from shaky hands or anything, just from being crossfaded. My high had started to even out but I was still pleasantly buzzed from the little boost the smoke session with Victoria had just given me.

Once we were inside, Victoria quickly closed the door behind me and locked it.  _ Umm...okay, this is starting to seem more and more like— _ Victoria put one hand on my shoulder and turned me around to face her before pushing me up against the wall next to her door. She put her other hand on my hip and slid her leg between mine. My eyes felt like they were the size of dinner plates.

I mean, on the one hand, I had seen this coming...maybe even from the minute she’d leaned in and murmured into my ear that she liked when I looked at her. But I’d tried to give her the benefit of the doubt because...well, honestly, one wrong move with Victoria Chase would end your social career permanently. Like probably actually permanently, even going forward into a Victoria-less future. She could probably find a way.

“Don’t think so hard, Max,” she murmured, looking from my eyes down to my chest and back up, lingering on my lips. “This isn’t a joke or prank. You can check for hidden cameras or whatever if you need to but if I was told I had to fuck somebody I  _ really _ thought was some ugly loser, I’d tell them to shove it.” She looked back up at my eyes. “So…”

She shifted around a little, pressing herself against my thigh. I could feel her heat through her dark tights. My core and my throat clenched in tandem. I swallowed hard. She watched my throat bob and she licked her lips. I tried to steady my breathing.

“Victoria...what…”

_ “Please _ don’t ask questions, Max,” she murmured. I didn’t very much  _ like _ that but I guess I could piece enough of the context together myself...and make more sense of it later, when I was sober. It was hard to focus or want to sit and have a chat about Victoria Chase’s latent sexual desire for wiry hipster girls when she kept subtly shifting herself against my leg, probably subconsciously, anyway.

I hummed in brief contemplation before placing my hands on her hips, feeling them roll as her slight shifting became a regular rhythm. I squeezed ever so slightly and she let out the tiniest of sounds. I looked up at her lidded eyes, laced with vulnerability.

“You’ve wanted this for a  _ while, _ haven’t you?” I asked. Her hands began to grip at my shoulder and hip more firmly and her body shifted closer to mine as she nodded.

She never broke eye contact with me as I let her grind herself against me for a few more seconds. There was a vulnerability in her features — a want, a look of something begging to be let out that had been kept hidden away. I took a deep breath in through my nose, smelling a mixture of her body spray and a lingering hint of weed and alcohol on her breath. I exhaled slowly with a hum. I rubbed my thumbs against the hint of hip bone that poked forward from her frame.

“Okay,” I said simply.

“Okay?” She asked, after a slight pause. I nodded.

“I’ll fuck you...on one condition,” I replied. Her hips jutted forward while I spoke.

“What?” She inquired quietly. I felt myself smile ever so slightly.

“I want you on your knees.”

Her movement halted abruptly as her breathing hitched and her eyes widened. She then all but melted, a hum akin to a whimper coming out as she ground into my thigh again. She nodded.

“Whatever you want,” she said.

“Hmm...good.” I gripped her hips tighter and wished that, in that moment, I was strong enough to lift her with her legs wrapped around my waist.  _ I should start going to the gym,  _ I thought, though I knew this was a drunk one night stand... _ speaking of which… _ “Are you sure you want this, Victoria?”

I think she thought I was being playful because she just nodded and ground harder against me. Her heat against my thigh had grown and my jeans felt humid where she pressed against me.

“Will you regret this when you’re sober? And have you wanted this before?” I didn’t want to take advantage of her if this was  _ just _ the alcohol speaking. She rolled her eyes, the look of desperation disappearing for a moment.

_ “Yes, _ Max. I  _ want _ you to fuck me. I’ve  _ wanted _ you to fuck me. And I’ll  _ want _ you to fuck me again, if you’re any good. You have my fucking consent now just  _ take me.” _

There was something about Victoria being in this weird form of her normal, bitchy self while still grinding herself against my thigh that  _ really _ made me hungry for her — hungry to see that power subverted, to  _ take _ from her rather than how everyone was used to  _ giving _ her whatever she wanted.

My breath rumbled in my throat —  _ Did I just growl? —  _ as I pushed her across the width of her doorway against the other wall there. Her eyes closed and she hummed as she tilted her head back.  _ Oh, no, you don’t… _ I ran my fingers through her pixie cut as I tilted her head back down to make her meet my eyes as I raised my leg between her thighs. She lowered herself onto me further with a weight she hadn’t been able to get when I’d been the one pinned and sighed with a deep relief once she’d begun her slow rhythm against me again.

I leaned in, brushing my nose against her slightly but not fully closing the gap between our lips. Her breath was hot against my skin, coming in steady waves through her lips that matched the rhythm her hips rode against me. I felt her tilt her head up to meet my lips but I held her back, tugging her back a little with the hand still nestled into her hair. A sharper breath hit my kin and her hips quivered.  _ Hmm… _

I hummed aloud along with my thought and tightened my hold in her hair a little more, pulling slightly. The slightest whimper escaped her now-parted lips. Her hands grabbed at my hips to steady herself as I felt a little more of her weight settle onto my thigh when I tugged. I narrowed my eyes at her.

“You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” I couldn’t help but ask. I don’t know if the weed was lowering my inhibitions or if I was just  _ that into _ what was happening (or both) but I felt a heady sort of power having Victoria Chase so literally in the palm of my hand. She took a deep breath, looking a bit like she was fighting with herself. Her eyes darted from one of mine to the other and back.

“Whatever I say tonight...doesn’t leave this room,” she breathed. “Got it?” I rubbed the pads of my fingers against her scalp to help soothe her.

“Of course,” I said gently, the air around us softening a touch from the fever that burned there before. “I understand what’s going on here...I think. At least, I’m pretty sure.” Victoria nodded slightly and looked down.

“I never get this with anyone. There’s...not really anyone here I’d  _ want _ to give this to.” I raised an eyebrow, though she didn’t see. “Except you, I guess.” She let out a short, quiet chuckle. “I don’t know  _ why, _ but...there’s just something about you, Max,” she finished as she looked up into my eyes. Some of that vulnerability had returned to her features — this almost coy look, if coy were a thing Victoria Chase would ever really be. A quiet smile grew on my lips. I leaned back in towards her, our noses brushing again, and my lips hovering inches from hers.

“I don’t mind, you know…” I mimicked her words from earlier, the ones that really  _ started _ all of this. And this time, when she leaned up to press her lips against mine, I didn’t pull away.

**Author's Note:**

> Before you ask — yes, there will still be a new chapter of IFAF on Friday!


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